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The Guerilla Chief, and Other Tales

Год написания книги
2017
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“What!” he gasped out, “what can this fellow mean?”

“Answer me, Pluto,” said I, addressing myself to the domestic, “you say you drove your mistress and Mademoiselle to the boat – the Missouri Belle?”

“Ya, massr, dat for sarting.”

“And did they embark in her?”

“Sarting, massr, I seed um go off afore I leff de waff.”

“A gentleman accompanied them?”

“Ob coos, Massr Hoteroche ’companied dem.”

“Who said it was Monsieur De Hauteroche?”

“Ebbery body say so; but law, massr, dis chile aint blind. I see Massr Looey ma’seff; an’ sure he wa’ stayin’ at de house for more ’n a week. You’s only a playin’ possum wi’ de ole nigga? dat’s what you are a doin’.”

“Another word, Pluto! Did Madame tell you where she was going?”

“No, massr, not adzactly tell me, but I knows whar, for all dat. Hyaw, hyaw, hyaw!” and the darkie displayed his ivories in a broad grin, while a knowing look was exhibited in the corners of his great eyes.

“Where was it?” I asked, without heeding his ludicrous humour.

“Gorry, massr; p’raps Massr Looey, he no let me tell?” and the black turned an inquisitive look towards De Hauteroche.

“It is just what I desire you to do. For Heaven’s sake, man, do not delay! This is most mysterious.”

“Berry queer! Well, Massr Looey, since you’s no objection, I tell dis gemman and Missy Adele; but I thort dey know’d all ’bout it a’ready. Ob coorse we brak folk only knows what we’ve heerd. It may be true, an’ it mayent, for all dat.”

“Out with it, man!”

“Well, de folks all say dat Ma’aselle ’Lympe she go be marry to young Massr Looey; and dat dey all go de way to France to have de knot tied – all de way to France! hyaw! hyaw!”

“To France?”

“Yes, massr. De say young massr – hyaw – he have rich uncle dar – he die – he leave all to Massr Looey – hope him true Massr Looey – dat young massr he go to get de money, and den he marry Ma’aselle ’Lympe, and den dey all come back hyar.”

“And who has said all this?”

“Law, massr, ebbery body know ’im – ebbery body say so. ’Sides, I hear Massr Gardette, de banker, tell one gemman, day I drove massr to de bank. Golly, de big cheque missa did draw out dat berry day! She say ’twar for trabbelin ’spenses. Dar wa dollars ’nuf to a trabbled ’em all ober de world. But say, Massr Looey, why hab you come back? Sure missa an’ Ma’aselle ’Lympe are safe? Hope dar’s nuffin wrong, massr?”

De Hauteroche appeared stupified with amazement – absolutely petrified. Pluto might as well have addressed his inquiries to a stone.

To question the negro further would have been idle. Indeed, I was already in possession of sufficient data to determine the outlines of this mysterious affair – if not to make known the whole of its details. I was now convinced that a horrid crime was being committed – a base deception practised – of which Madame Dardonville and her daughter were the dupes and victims. In all likelihood, some one was personating Luis De Hauteroche; and, under this guise – and by some pretence about a legacy, as report declared – had induced Madame Dardonville to leave her home and make a journey to France! This part of the story might be true or not; but certain it was that the ladies had gone away in the company of some one who was personating Luis de Hauteroche. Whither they were gone, and with what intent, I could not determine; but I had little doubt as to who was their companion and betrayer: it was the sportsman, Despard.

I did not communicate my thoughts to either of my companions. I could see no object in doing so. Their hour of misery would arrive soon enough. I thought it better they should suffer an hour of mystery.

I knew that Monsieur Gardette was a friend of Madame Dardonville – a family friend, as such men are termed. It was probable, therefore, he could throw light on the matter. He had cashed a large cheque, it appeared, and must know something of the object for which it was drawn. Moreover, the affair of the lost bill of exchange was to be inquired after. Both objects could be accomplished at the same time.

I proposed, therefore, that we should at once proceed to the banking-house of Monsieur Gardette. My companions, overcome with astonishment, yielded unresistingly to my proposal, and, giving the Jehu the necessary orders, we were driven back in the direction of the city.

Half an hour brought us to the banking-house, where the horses were pulled up. Adele sat in the carriage and her brother, acting under my advice, remained with her. I thought it better I should see Monsieur Gardette alone. Not yet had the time arrived, when it was necessary De Hauteroche should know the full extent of his loss.

Story 2, Chapter XVI

Monsieur Gardette

I had the good fortune to find Monsieur Gardette in his counting-house. He knew me; and our interview proceeded without embarrassment.

I shall not weary my reader with the conversation that passed between us; nor yet detail all the circumstances that came to my knowledge during that interview. Suffice it to give only those more immediately connected with the thread of my narrative; and which of themselves were sufficient to confirm my most fearful suspicion.

Some one like De Hauteroche – resembling him almost as a counterpart – had assumed his name; had deceived Madame Dardonville as to the identity; and by an influence, as yet only guessed at, had persuaded herself and daughter to take the extraordinary step of accompanying him to Europe!

All this might easily have been effected. There was no improbability in it, when it is remembered that it was some years since De Hauteroche had been seen either by mother or daughter.

Another circumstance, which I now recollected, strengthened the probability of their having gone on this journey. I remembered Madame Dardonville having told me that she contemplated a journey to Europe, at some not distant period – that she was desirous of visiting the home of her youth, and renewing some ancient friendships. Moreover, she had stated her intention of residing some time in Paris, in order that in the world’s fashionable metropolis, she might obtain for her daughter the finishing touch of a polite education.

This was but an ambition common to most transatlantic emigrés, especially, as in the case of the widow of Dardonville, where pecuniary considerations offered no obstacle. It was not improbable, therefore, that she had carried, or was about to carry, this design into execution.

All that seemed singular was the hasty manner in which she had undertaken the journey: for in her letters to New Orleans she had not said a word of such intention. It was easy to conceive, however, that the counterfeit De Hauteroche, acting with the influence which the real De Hauteroche possessed, might, without much difficulty, have thus brought about the event.

In reality, it was no longer a conjecture, but a fait accompli. He had done it; and Madame Dardonville and her daughter, in the company of an accomplished brigand, were now on their way to Europe. Of the truth of this, the facts stated by the banker were sufficient proof Monsieur Gardette was aware of my friendly relations with the family, and without reserve he communicated all he knew. His knowledge was not much, and related chiefly to matters of business. Of course, like other friends of the family, he had heard the rumours that were afloat; and in his business capacity he was made aware of the intended trip to Europe. A circular letter for a large amount (10,000 dollars), made payable in Paris, besides a small cheque for present purposes, had naturally made him aware that some grand manoeuvre was going on, and that Paris was to be the but of a journey. Further than this, he had not been intrusted with the confidence of the family. All else he had drawn from rumours, which were current in the place. It would not be easy for a lady, so conspicuous as the rich widow Dardonville, to keep even family secrets concealed. Rumour could not be cheated of her tales; and that which was generally believed in this instance, appeared to be the correct one.

The banker had heard of the projected marriage of Olympe; that young De Hauteroche was to be the son-in-law; and, indeed, some of the peculiar conditions of Monsieur Dardonville’s will were not unknown to him. Administrators will let secrets slip out, and bankers have peculiar opportunities of becoming possessed of them.

Monsieur Gardette had heard other particulars – that young De Hauteroche had been on a visit to the villa Dardonville for more than a week: of this fact he was quite certain, and no doubt it accounted for him, Monsieur Gardette, not receiving an answer to a communication he had addressed to that gentleman in New Orleans.

I knew well enough to what communication he referred; and I soon convinced him that it did not account for his not receiving the answer.

All these particulars Monsieur Gardette imparted to me, without any suspicion of the real state of the case; and, when I told him that Monsieur De Hauteroche had not been on a visit to the Villa Dardonville, he firmly, but politely, contradicted the assertion!

“Pardon me, Monsieur! I know several who have seen him here, though not in town, for, what was considered strange, he has never made his appearance in our streets during the whole of his stay. It is not so strange, either,” proceeded the banker, with a bland smile. “At such a crisis men care but little for general society. Perhaps,” added the old gentleman, with a knowing look, “he will go more abroad by-and-bye. A lucky young man – a splendid fortune, sir!”

“An unhappy young man, Monsieur Gardette. A sad fortune, I fear – more truly, a terrible misfortune!”

“Why, Monsieur? what mean you?”

“That the person who was on a visit to the Villa Dardonville was not Monsieur De Hauteroche; but, as I have reason to believe, a noted sportsman, or rather swindler, who is personating him. Monsieur De Hauteroche has just arrived with me in the Sultana. We came direct from New Orleans: out of which city Monsieur De Hauteroche has not been for months past.”

Had a bomb-shell dropped into the counting-house of Monsieur Gardette, it could not have startled him more effectually. He leaped from his chair, exclaiming:

“Sacré Dieu! Monsieur – you are jesting?”

“Alas! no. Look through the window, Monsieur Gardette – that is Luis De Hauteroche.”

The carriage was directly under the window; and Luis and Adele, seated in it, were visible through the half-open Venetian.

“Certainly! it is he and his sister! I know them both – pretty children! I knew the old Colonel well Mon Dieu! Monsieur – is what you tell me true?”
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